Breath of the World
by Sothis Star1
Summary: "New life keeps the energy flowing, like the breath of the world." - Jake Sully. A new generation comes of age during the peace bought by their parents' sacrifice. Part of the "five seconds too late" continuity. Features Mo'kriya and Jeytalan.


Selune

The hunter vaults across uneven ground, fighting upstream against a flood of panicked Omaticaya, who cough and stumble as gas canisters scream in and pelt the ground. His eyes stream from the gas, but he pushes himself deeper into Hometree. His bow is held slack in one hand, the fight forgotten. "Selune! Selune!" he cries. He scans the faces around him frantically, searching for her. "Selune!"

"Ralteyo!" he hears a frightened voice answer. He whirls toward the sound and half-collides with his wife. They embrace each other. "What is happening, Ralteyo?" she asks. Her voice is wild, breathless, but her eyes are focused despite the fear.

He shakes his head. "I don't know." He grabs her hand. "We have to run."

It's then that the first round of incendiaries hit.

Screaming fills the air as flames erupt among the columns of Hometree. A riderless direhorse comes galloping out of the smoke, honking in terror; Ralteyo and Selune dive out of the way as hot ash rains down on them from all sides. They struggle to their feet, arms held over their heads.

"Jeytalan," Selune breathes suddenly. She spins and charges headlong into the smoky darkness toward the central spiral. The great Toruk totem starts to fall; Selune ducks under it just before it crashes to the ground, then leaps upward toward the second level of Hometree.

Ralteyo hurls his body against the totem. "Selune! No!" He tries to follow her, scrabbling up over the tangle of poles, but somebody yanks him to the ground and yells at him that they need to leave now. They shove him hard, sending him stumbling into the crowd, and Ralteyo is pushed along in a current of bodies as flames crack and roar around them.

* * *

Selune runs through searing heat and smoke, panting and half-blind, toward the weaver's corner where she had left her infant son to nap.

She's almost there; she can hear him wailing. "Jeytalan!" she cries out. She skids to a stop. There's a red-hot carpet of embers blocking her path. Splinters of wood rain down and blacken as they land.

Selune grits her teeth and starts running, arms over her head. Her feet blister with each step, and her lungs burn from the smoke and hot gases.

She reaches him; his little face is screwed up in agony and fear as he wails. There's a glowing sliver of wood resting on one of his soft round cheeks; Selune flicks it away frantically, revealing an angry burn underneath. The piece of wood hits a woven tapestry and falls, leaving a dark smudge on the fine weave. All around her, half-finished baskets, tapestries, and clothing spark and smoke; her masterpieces are like so much kindling in the inferno. Selune's life work is going up in flames, but she doesn't notice. She scoops her son into her arms and turns to run across the hellish carpet of embers once more.

A massive explosion rocks Hometree and knocks Selune off her feet. She rolls back up, her son encircled within her arms, and sprints forward. She shields Jeytalan with her body, bent nearly double, as sharp, burning fragments of wood hit her in the face and on her back. She makes it to the central spiral and half-runs, half-falls along it. The tree leans and shudders dangerously as she finally leaps to solid ground.

* * *

Ralteyo stares with unseeing incomprehension as Hometree – the one solid, constant thing in the Omaticaya's lives – lets out an earth-shaking groan and _moves._

It's not until the great branches begin crashing down around them that he's able to move – that he's even able to notice his paralysis. Then there's chaos – a dark thunder of rending wood and fleeing bodies and terrified screaming. He runs and falls and runs again, alternately pulling others to their feet and being dragged along himself. He can't even tell where he's running. Darkness covers them as shattered pillars and falling leaves blot out the sun, and all he knows is that he's running blindly, desperately _away_.

It seems to last for a nightmare eternity. When the thunder finally goes still, what's left is silence by comparison, and it is much, much worse. Ashen sunlight filters in among the fluttering red embers and only now, in the stillness, can he finally _see_.

"Selune," he chokes, dropping to his knees. Flames flicker and dance, reflecting in his wide eyes, and it's like he's watching his life end before him. "_No_." He struggles back up and reels off into the smoke, hoping beyond hope. "Selune! Selune!" He tries to shout – to make his voice carry over the sounds of wailing and crackling fire – but his voice is made weak by coughing and grief.

* * *

Selune sits on a log, her eyes blank as she stares up at the sky – at the empty space where Hometree used to be. She is almost unrecognizable – her face scratched, burnt and bleeding, her feet blistered and charred.

It's in this condition that Ralteyo finds her again. He lets out a strangled sound – equal parts relief and horror. "Selune," he breathes, running to kneel beside her. He wants to throw his arms around her and embrace her tightly, but nearly every part of her is scratched or burnt. He strokes her hair instead.

It takes a while for her eyes focus on him. "...Ralteyo?" she whispers uncertainly. He nods, tears standing in his eyes. "Ralteyo," she gulps. "Jeytalan got hurt." She shifts and only then does Ralteyo see the bundle she is carrying in her arms. The baby boy blinks and whimpers, and Ralteyo sees a deep burn laid diagonally across the infant's cheek.

The wound is ugly enough to alarm under normal circumstances, but Ralteyo is too overwhelmed with relief and joy. "Selune!" he cries. "You saved him!" He leans in, being careful not to touch any of her wounds, and kisses her gently but emotionally on the lips.

"He got hurt," she repeats. She doesn't seem to notice that her own injuries are much more egregious than her son's.

Ralteyo's tears finally spill over. "He'll heal. You'll both heal." He looks around at the devastated landscape around them and spots a cluster of Omaticaya that have gathered some distance away. "We need to get out of here." He picks her up as gently as possible. She winces as his arms come in contact with the wounds on her back and legs, but she doesn't protest; she only holds Jeytalan closer to her chest. Ralteyo turns, and together, the young family moves to join the rest of the clan.

* * *

**Author's note: ****Hello again, ffn.**

**I apologize for the long hiatus. It's partly because of three incredibly eventful real-life years, and partly because my "Last Train Home" universe has gone haywire. I thought I had all its chapters and one-shots planned out, but as I dug in with research and backstory, I realized that very extensive, deep-level restructuring was needed. I've scrapped entire chapters; meanwhile, new scenes keep popping into my head, and I don't know if they are LTH chapters or one-shots or even officially part of my headcanon or what. It's chaotic but rather fun – I'm questioning everything, and I think the final product will be better as a result. But it's put a brake on publishing even one-shots until I can finish sorting out what's "real life" in-universe and what's not.**

**Then suddenly, this weekend, I realized that I still had an entire multi-chapter fic sitting in rough draft – one that's part of the "Five seconds too late" continuity and thus completely insulated from the "Last Train Home" mayhem. FSTL is an alternate-ending continuity in which events take a different turn in the link trailer, after the final fight with Quaritch. "Breath of the World" is probably going to be the last fic I publish for this continuity.**

"**Breath of the World" is not so much a story with a plot as it is a collection of character vignettes. It will be about 6 or 7 chapters in total, focusing primarily on the younger generation. It mostly came about because of Mo'kriya – the daughter of Jake and Neytiri. I found her really fun to write during FSTL – surprisingly so – and she just came to life and kept creating scenes in my head. Through those scenes, she created other characters and imbued them with personality. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have! **

**Please, please review! I am very open to feedback of all kinds, whether positive or negative. Even a super-short "hi, I liked this!" or "hi, this sucked!" makes me happy in ways that only fellow fanfic authors will understand. **


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